How do I tell my daughter?

I’m pregnant!! It’s a girl!! Now what do I say, how do I tell my daughter the world that lays ahead.

You’re growing so fast, how do I protect you, new friends, new partners, nights out, all to come, social media, expectations of who you should be, what is acceptable, what is not, who decides. You’re too fat, you’re too thin, you think you’re great, flowing hair gets the boys but what does that mean. Are you flirty, a tease, or simply a friend, do you get to decide, not always my child. For you your appearance will say it all, she’s weird, she’s a slut, she’s up for it all, your hair, your clothes have a story to tell, your underwear will decide how far things can go, not you my child, you have no say at all. Your body is not yours, others get to decide. How the fuck do I explain that to my child!

Don’t want to much, don’t push for more, your cries are hysteria, your passion is flawed, you can’t handle the pressure, too many emotions, poor that man a scotch and pass her a tissue. Wipe away those tears, is it time of the month, is she pregnant, is she trying or is she simply done. The news you’re pregnant trickles through the halls, don’t hire a woman too many flaws. We want dedication, someone to stay, not come and go, disrupting the flow. You go have you’re baby, I wish you good luck, that promotion you wanted, it’s going to him, you made your choice, you can’t have both, you have created a life, run along now and be the dutiful wife.

Body battered and bruised as your child is born, your stomach sliced open or your vagina torn, how long until you get that body back that society so desperately mourns. Don’t lose it to slow, don’t lose it to quick, either way we will dictate your worth as a mother, you’re lazy, you’re vain, you’re just like all the others. Your man has left, he’s changed his mind, stand up little woman there’s work to be done, a child needs to be raised, by you, alone. You have a responsibility, he now has none, he works the system, no money to declare, cash in hand, new family for one he now cares. You’ll struggle, you’ll manage, you’ll get by. You’ll show your child what it takes to survive.

You may not marry, you don’t want a baby, don’t be silly young child, be a dutiful wife, raise a life, supper at six, you don’t get to have it all. You want a career, husband, child, a dog, ah bless the little woman as she handles it all. No career, the family is for you, what a waste of a life not wanting more, you want to be married, you want to raise a child, how sad for you a white picket fence is all you desire.
These paths in life are all for you, you decide, you pick how the story ends. Have a husband, do it alone, raise a child or have none. Have a career, that white picket fence, have it all, have what makes sense. Wear what you want, be who you are, love who you want, work where you want, tell NO to who you want! As a woman this is how you are seen, but do not fret my child for a female is strong, we take knocks, abuse, harassment and more, fall down, stand up, we stand tall.